The Smouldering Effigies of the Voodoo Dolls
by Benjamin McCabe
Summary: Joshua Alexander accidentally discovers the world of magics when he stumbles across an ogre trying to eat his neighbour. Set in Cornwall, UK. Dresdenverse story. 2/4 Chapters completed so far.
1. Part 1 Smouldering Effigies

Joshua Alexander Stories.

**Part One - The Smouldering Effigies of the Voodoo Dolls****. **

**1**

The wine bottle was empty.

I peered inside it, just to check. It could have been a trick of the light on the glass, or of my mind on my eyes. It wasn't.

"We need more wine" I called into the sitting room.

"Get some yourself" Sarah, my girlfriend "It's your turn to go"

"Bah" I whispered loudly to the room at large. The girlfriend was hidden beneath my duvet on the sofa, watching reality TV and eating the last of my Monster Munch crisps. The omens concerning movement in the near future from her were not fortuitous.

"Bah" I repeated. The room steadfastly ignored me.

I sighed and checked my pockets. Seven pounds and fifty-four pence. All I had left until Thursday, when I got my next paycheck. I really needed some wine.

My name is Joshua Dennis Alexander, twenty-one years old and by my own admission, going nowhere fast. I work full-time in a local video shop, just earning enough money to pay the rent for my attic flat, which was a good idea in the summer (when it was warm and I had some money to my name) yet now seems to have been one of my slightly less intelligent decisions. Particularly since the heating had broken down again.

I pulled a jumper on over my jumper, then thought about it and put another one over the top. I need a winter coat, but as funds stand I'll only be able to afford one and pay my bills in about three years time. I added a scarf that my Nan had knitted for me last Christmas and wrapped it around my neck.

I stopped for a second in front of the mirror, realising how ridiculous I looked. I am tall, six-two on a bad day, with what I like to think of as a whippet-like build. My girlfriend just calls me a skinny git. Whatever the semantics, with three layers on I was less whippet and more the Michelin man.

I shrugged at my reflection. I'd looked worse.

"I'm going to get some more wine!" I called into the living room. I was rewarded by a warm _humph_.

Ready to go, I skedaddled merrily down the hall, passed the living room and made it to the front door without tripping over anything (given the mess in my flat, it was an effort). I unlocked the bolt, called a goodbye, and humming to myself, bounded down my steps and out into the hallway.

Where an ogre was trying to eat my neighbour.

To say that Charlie McIntyre is strange gives peculiar folk a bad rap. He is about five-eight when he's in his shoes and no more than ten stone at most. He looks undernourished, though I'd seen his shopping enough times to know that it isn't a case of not eating enough. He has long, shoulder-length brown hair hangs unfashionably around his face and, to my knowledge, never been combed. He always wears loose, baggy clothes and jackboots. He listens to the Pixies, the Lemonheads and Frank Sinatra. His 80's style NHS glasses are always breaking and he wears fingerless gloves even in the summer.

He also, I realised, fights ogres in his spare time.

He was clutching onto a length of copper piping. The ogre came forward again and he swung it precisely, cracking into the ogre's nose and breaking it with a clean crunch. The ogre howled a bestial roar, surely attracting the attention of everybody in the building.

I thought about it. If I heard something like that, I wouldn't dare come and see what the problem was. Just in case it did happen to be something like an escaped ogre.

My mind snapped back to something resembling sanity and I reconsidered the situation. This couldn't be a creature of a fantasy world. It had to be some insane criminal hyped up on drugs...

...who was butt-naked. And had black skin. And who could take a crack in the face with a copper pipe without flinching overly.

Oh shit. Logic wasn't working.

Charlie saw me and waved, gawkily.

"Josh, how are you? Grab this and keep him occupied for me, will you?"

I just about caught the copper pipe as the ogre turned it's eyes to me. It wasn't much taller than I was, and even though I'm a beanpole, six-five isn't that intimidating. It was more the fact that its fists were twice the size of mine that scared me.

He swung for me, his strength causing him to punch a hole clean in the wall as I staggered back to avoid the blow. As he struggled to pull his hand back out, I thwacked him on the head as hard as I could, causing what should have been a dent the size of a Ford Focus in his head.

Nothing. Not even a cut. Bugger it.

"Get out of the way!"

Charlie had raised what looked like a tree branch and was brandishing it menacingly in the ogre's (and therefore my) general direction.

He yelled incomprehensibly, a large gust of unseen force blasting from the stick and pummelling the ogre into the wall, missing me by inches. I cursed and scuttled away from the flailing ogre.

"Quickly, in here" he motioned for me to follow him into his flat. Looking back at the thrashing beast, I followed him sharpish. I shut the door, bolted it and walked over to the table, breathing heavily.

I looked at Charlie.

"What" I asked, sweating from fear "...was that?"

"An ogre. Baby ogre, actually" Charlie was fiddling with something that looked like a bundle of sticks "Mean, nasty, killers as soon as they are born. Judging by the eyes, I'd say this one recently hatched"

"What is it doing in our building?" I asked, turning to look over towards the door. The wall was making retching noises – the ogre was trying to break free "And why are we not running?"

Charlie looked up at me, confused.

"I know why I'm still here" he furrowed his brow "But why the hell are you?"

The ogre took that moment to crash through the door frame. Cursing the money that I would inevitably have to contribute when the building fell down due to structural damage I hefted my copper pipe and went to strike the beast down.

I needn't have bothered. Charlie McIntyre raised his bundle of twigs and placed them on a flat palm, whispering softly to himself.

The twigs lit like matches and flew like darts, embedding themselves into the ogre. It gave a bestial roar and lurched backwards and forwards, writhing like a witch on a stake as the flames quickly spread, cracking the skin as if it were kindling. It rapidly began to flake apart, burnt to a husk by the fire that engulfed it.

Within seconds, all that was left was a bundle of ashes.

The room felt cold.

"Hell" I commented

Charlie grinned.

"Nah. Hell is a lot more uncomfortable than that" He stepped over the charred remains and picked up his tree branch "I'm going to need some help. Fancy coming along?"

**2**

Snow had begun to fall. Not just a couple of flakes either. This was going to be one hell of a snowstorm if it continued. Considering it was mid-winter, it's not that surprising that the weather was foul.

But hey, this is Cornwall. We never get snow, let alone enough to cover our ankles.

"What's going on?" I asked Charlie, who was stomping ahead at a brisk pace. For a short guy, he covers ground quickly, even given the treacherous conditions underfoot "And can I stop at the Co-op for a bottle of red?"

"This way" He seemed to be following a path ahead of him, using his hand to feel out what was before him "We need to track it down before it gets too far away"

"I thought you'd killed it?" I struggled to keep up with him, even with my lanky figure. Also, I had snow in my converse and it was starting to chill my feet to the bone. Yes, I am a wimp. Whatever.

"We killed the baby, yes" Charlie turned to me, looking up as we maintained the brisk pace, matching each other's stride "But what do you need in order to get a baby?"

"Holy crap" realisation dawned instantly "A Mother"

"One very angry, pissed off and maternal ogre with post-natal depression, judging by my current luck" Charlie muttered "Ergo bad news indeed"

I stopped in the middle of the road.

"Hang on" I muttered, rubbing my eyes as if I'd suddenly gone blind "This isn't happening. I was on the way to get some wine. I must have tripped over on the steps and hit my head and now I am unconscious. In a minute I'll wake up and find out that none of this happened."

Charlie pointed his stick at me and whispered something incoherent. I was literally swept off my feet (hardly as romantic as it sounds) and dumped in what was now a snowdrift. Wet slush seeped through my clothes as I landed with a thump.

"I don't have the time to muck about" he spoke quietly, but with an air of annoyance that I hadn't detected before "Thanks very much for the help with the ogre – I don't know many who would stand and fight one of them -"

"- Or many stupid enough not to run" I interrupted with a mouthful of snow, picking myself from the wet slush

"- But I don't have time to waste telling you all about the world of magic" he continued "Sorry to disappoint your 'all just a dream' theory, but I cannot afford to bring you along unless you realise that this is a very real, pressing issue of some considerable danger to us and potentially others. So either hurry up and we'll track this beast down, or go on home and tell your girl that the store was shut. Whatever you do, do it quickly. I don't have any patience for indecision today"

I stared at him for a minute. Charlie McIntyre, as I knew him, was a politely spoken, shy, withdrawn geek who enjoyed playing World of Warcraft a little too much for his own good. This was someone quite different. Much more threatening.

I made a decision and nodded slowly.

"I'm in"

"Let's go then" he gripped his stick, sniffing the air like a hunting dog "I think it's this way"

**3**

We stopped outside of the Co-op. A couple of cars had been abandoned in the car park and snow was piling on top of them. The store was still, miraculously, open. I had a feeling that would not last for very long.

Charlie passed me a twenty.

"Get a bottle of brandy or something" he looked at me "And dry off a little bit"

I went inside and pulled off the outer layer of my jumper trilogy. Under the first top I was relatively dry, though I had no idea how long it would take my jeans to dry out.

I did my best to dry them under the hand-dryer, leaving me a little less soggy. After a quick visit along the wine aisle (reckoning I could use the £20 note to pay for the brandy as well as my wine – I figured it was an adequate payment) I went to the checkout where a bored girl sat at the counter.

"Do you have any I.D.?" She asked languidly. She had bright pink hair and a tattoo of Tigger on the side of her neck and looked no older than sixteen herself. I raised an eyebrow and handed over my driving license.

"£14.75" she held out the card for me to take back but I was staring out of the window. Despite the cold steaming up the windows outside, I could still make out Charlie, who was scrapping with some unidentifiable thing outside. I had a fairly good idea what.

I handed her the twenty and snatched the card from her.

"Keep the change" I bundled the alcohol into a bag and hurried out of the store.

Now, I had thought that the last ogre was quite big. I had also kinda hoped that the next one would be a little smaller, maybe ogres shrinking as they grew up and all that.

Unfortunately, we had no such luck. This one was a good seven-foot tall and had greenish-black skin. Her hands, as I guessed her to be the mother, wielded claws as long as kitchen knives. She was fat, ugly and quick, at least for a fat, ugly thing.

Charlie ducked out of the way of one claw and brought his stick about him in a circle, causing a dome of protective energies to gather around him in a grey haze. The ogre struck at him again, her attack blunted by the dome. Enraged, she snarled, turning and glaring directly at me.

Ah. Shit.

I turned to run as she bounded towards me at a hell of a lick. I distinctly remember yelping at that point and scrambling beneath the bicycle rails, as if they would protect me.

The ogre bounded towards me and threw itself at the rails, as if they would break beneath it as it hit them. I managed to scramble away just in time for it to slam onto them, crushing them beneath her.

A hideous wail of pain emerged from the beast as it began to thrash about wildly. I noticed that tiny bits of the steel rails had become stuck in its hide.

"Iron compound, of course" Charlie had emerged from his dome and was somehow standing next to me "Nice work, Josh. How did you know fairies are intolerant of cold iron?"

"I didn't" I replied. I checked the plastic bag. The brandy was still intact, but the wine bottle had broken and was dripping to create blood coloured splotches in the snow "Bugger"

"Leave this to me" Charlie walked calmly towards the beast. As he raised his stick, she raised her head, rasping what sounded like a cross between a roar and a yelp. Charlie smiled, and with his stick ablaze with flame, plunged it deep into the ogre's chest. Fire lit the night as the ogre went the same way as her kin, albeit with more kicking and struggling this time.

"We need to get out of here" he walked past me as I tried to wash off the wine from the brandy bottle using the snow around us "Do you have any petrol in your van?"

**4**

My VW Camper is so old that I think it must be something like seventh- or eighth-hand by now. It used to be a cornflower yellow, but over the years the paint has peeled and faded so it is mostly a light grey now. It's barely roadworthy on a normal day, but today more than ever I was wary of using it.

I had fuelled it to the top when I actually had some money, so I wasn't worried about running out of petrol wherever we were going. But traction isn't good at the best of times and in the middle of a snowstorm I was worried sick about crashing it.

Charlie had no such qualms and had installed himself in the driving seat. We pulled out of our drive and turned down the road towards the centre of town, though centre is perhaps a little inaccurate, since our town mostly consists of one long road winding through the middle and a few others mostly running parallel to it.

"Slow down, you'll get us killed!" I snapped as we skidded over a traffic bump in the road "And would you fill me in on what's going wrong now? What are those things that we've been killing?"

"Your standard Blackskin Ogre, though you won't have seen one before. They rarely cross over" Charlie replied

"Cross over from where?"

"The Veiled Half" Charlie looked straight ahead, focusing on the road "The world that hides all the things that don't want to be seen. Where you'll find a load of nasties if you're dumb enough to go looking for it"

"So what where they? Why were they here?"

"The Blackskin is a fairy, a mercenary at that" Charlie continued "They are often hired by mortals to carry out their dirty work for a price"

"And what is that price?"

"Blackskins can only reproduce when they are in the mortal realm, on our side. And they are bound to the other side, some kind of ancient magics. The only way they are allowed across is due to a bargain with a mortal, an exchange, as it were"

"So that mother was allowed to cross over as long as her and junior took a swipe at you?"

"Not just mother and baby" Charlie grimaced "I get the feeling that father will be on his way pretty soon"

I sagged back in the chair, groaned and swigged back a tot of the brandy. It burned my throat but helped dull the pain from throwing myself around in the car park.

"Could my evening get any better?" I closed my eyes for a second, before opening them suspiciously "So what does that make you? I mean you were toting some serious powers of some sort around before"

"The technical term is magi, or wizard" he replied "Though I would call myself a magician. Less Harry Potter connotations, to be honest"

"How long have you been, well, _magical_?" I asked "I never noticed anything different about you until this evening"

"Since I was seventeen" Charlie shrugged "My talents have improved loads over the past six months. But I've still got a long way to go"

"Can you take this ogre that's coming for us?" I asked

"I don't think so" Charlie kept looking forwards, where the snow was falling heavier than ever "Not unless I can get some supplies"

**5**

I grappled with the passenger door for a while as we emerged from the Camper. We were next to a field by the woods on the outskirts of Lelant, a village a few miles down the road.

"I keep a shed out here for supplies" Charlie explained as he led me through a maze of trees. I know the guy who owns the land, he lets me store some stuff here so I don't blow anyone up"

"What do you need?" I asked

"I'm not sure yet" he replied tersely "If you keep quiet for a minute I'll be able to think of something"

We paced through the woods for a minute or so in silence.

"You do this sort of thing often?" I asked

"Luckily, I manage to avoid more than most" Charlie fumbled with his gloves, almost as if he was considering removing them "I've got into a couple of scrapes in my time. Learned how to keep my head down and out of trouble, though"

"Until today"

"Yeah. Until today" His small face lit up "Of course. That's it"

"What is?" I asked. A huge roar echoed through the trees. If you've ever heard a lion's roar up close, then you'll have an idea of what it's like. I didn't hear the roar so much as feel it coarse through me.

"Can these things speak?" I asked as we began to run. Ahead of us a tiny, ramshackle hut came into view.

"The females can express emotion and feelings in their sounds" Charlie answered "But the males are mindless. Much harder to kill and lethally strong. Also so stupid that they'll keep fighting until they are utterly destroyed. I've never seen one beaten in a fair fight"

"So how are we supposed to beat it?" I asked

Charlie looked at me, confused, as if I had just turned into a cretin.

"By fighting dirtily, of course"

**6**

The hut was subterranean. The wooden frame visible from the outside did it no justice at all; a huge space had been dug underneath the ground and fortified with steel supports. A workbench and table, cleared of clutter, sat in the middle, with objects of all shapes and sizes adorning the metal cabinets. I noticed a circle had been imprinted in the centre of the table, with strange symbols around the edge.

"I don't mean to be a pain" I commented "But won't the ogre be smashing through here any second?"

"Um. Yes, of course" Charlie turned from his searching and ran over to the circle on the table. He blew any dust clear, then placed his palm on the centre.

A spiral of saffron light spun fiercely around the circle, levitating until it had risen a couple of inches from the ground. Satisfied, Charlie made a small grunt and turned away from the circle, which continued to emit a steady stream of evaporating saffron energies.

"So what is that?" I asked, crouching beside it and cocking my head to peer inside.

"Don't touch it!" Charlie called out as I went to poke it. I quickly withdrew my hand "It's a barrier. It'll keep the ogre out for a while – hopefully long enough for us to get what we need"

"Which is what? If you tell me I can help you look"

"That would be unwise" Charlie frowned. He was looking at a weapons cabinet "Here, take this"

I took it from him, what looked like a sword wrapped in a leather scabbard that was decaying with age. I removed the sword from it's scabbard, revealing a sword that looked older than time itself. It was dulled with age and unimpressive with age, yet had an edge to it that even I could see was needle-thin and sharp enough to cut with a touch.

"How does it feel?" Charlie asked

I considered the thought. The sword was comfortable in my hand, as if it was meant to be there. I felt a warm glow as I held it before me, as if it was a natural thing to be holding.

"Good" I replied. Charlie looked over, nodded, and turned back to his shelves, seemingly satisfied.

"You have one task" Charlie explained "Cut the ogre enough to draw some blood. Then get yourself over to me and I'll do the rest"

I nodded.

"I've never used a sword before. I barely know how to hold the things"

"You'll get used to it quickly" Charlie replied "It's like swinging a mega-light cricket bat with one hand"

He had shoved a couple of things into a rucksack and zipped it up before I had a chance to look. He shrugged his coat back on and opened a trunk, grabbing a jumper and a pair of black drainpipe trousers.

"There's a toilet over there" he pointed to a door "I'd get changed out of those jeans. But be quick"

I just about managed to struggle into the drainpipes, though they were about an inch too short for me. The jumper was too big for me, so I rolled the sleeves back a couple of times.

"Are you ready?" Charlie had picked up his large stick (I suppose one would call it a staff if they wanted to be technical, but it's hardly more than a glorified tree branch really) "Let's go kick some ogre arse"

"Seconded" I agreed, following him up the steps and out into the woods.

**7**

The Ogre had been stopped about fifty yards away from the hut. Charlie whispered a word and the circle of protection, which the Blackskin had been pounding against, fell to the floor.

Dear God, that thing was hideous. Easily twenty-odd stone, it had the same blackened skin, large claws like the mother-ogre and huge great spikes coming from it's shoulders, elbows and along it's spine. It was even bigger than the last one, which just wasn't fair.

And all I had was a glorified knife. This just didn't seem like a productive way to be spending my weekend.

I yelled at the top of my voice and charged at it, trying not to trip over the roots of the trees.

It stopped in its tracks.

I guess ogres don't often get foes charging towards them. I guess it makes them think twice about attacking any assailant brave enough to attack rather than flee.

It eventually recovered its wits and began to charge itself, but by then I had the advantage of speed. I might not be the fittest, but I have long legs that mean I can really scamper when need be.

As I came up to it I rolled past him and sliced at his leg. This was intentional, and not at all because I stumbled over a tree root and lashed wildly. Honestly. It screeched in pain and kicked out at me, knocking me a few yards into the nearest tree. I hit the tree like a sack of spuds, feeling every bone in my vertebrae protest against the collision. I groaned heavily, thanking myself for the brandy that had fortified me on the way over. Picking myself up, I paused for a second to look at the dripping, purple blood that dripped off the sword.

Of course. The sword was made of iron. No wonder it had hurt the bugger.

"Josh!" Charlie was bent over something, fiddling with some sort of string and what looked like a toy doll "Get yourself over here with that blood. Now!"

I made to go over there but the ogre had risen and was galloping towards me once more. I kept my feet, ducked and drove the sword at him as he swung and missed me, giving him a glancing blow to the unprotected part between his shoulder and spine. It screamed again and veered off away from us.

I ran to Charlie and handed him the sword. I realised that he had a little stuffed doll, bought from Woolworths.

Hmm. Charlie McIntyre: Magician. Killing evil beasties one dolly at a time.

He took a smear of blood from the sword and spread it over the doll, and over the end of the string that he had sellotaped over the mouth. Technical stuff, this wizardry.

Charlie looked up at the ogre. And I looked into his eyes properly for the first time today. Something had changed. This wasn't the Charlie McIntyre that I knew. This was someone far tougher, far more self-assured.

That scared me a little. More than I liked to admit.

He snarled, wrapping the string around the doll, constricting it and binding it tightly. As I watched, the ogre seemed to be bound by some unseen force. I realised what Charlie was doing and hollered with joy.

"Ooh yeah. Don't go messin' with the voodoo" I shouted

"Josh, shut up" Charlie muttered darkly "I'm trying to do something here"

With a great effort he tied a knot in the string. The voodoo doll began to replicate the struggles of the ogre and Charlie threw it in front of him, where it levitated slightly. The ogre began to spin uselessly in air too, looking like a deformed ballerina to my untrained eye.

"Pass me the brandy from the bag" Charlie commanded

"Is now the time to start drinking?" I asked

"Just do it, Josh, Jesus" Charlie was getting frustrated

"Yes Sir"

He took the brandy and unscrewed the top. He took a sip for himself and then poured it out over the doll. A pungent whiff of alcohol spread over the woods and I realised that brandy was running off the ogre as it numbly struggled against its magical trappings.

Charlie took the last weapon of his out of the bag: a box of kitchen matches, the long ones. He lit one and shoved me roughly back.

"This might get a little warm" he warned. He placed the match to the doll and we watched as the tiny toy and the huge struggling ogre burst into flame before our eyes.

We waited, watching as the beast was reduced to a powdered set of ashes before us. The cold began to bite again and I shivered.

"We'd best be heading back" Charlie gave me a slap on the back "Thanks for the assist"

**8**

I checked myself for bruises as I nursed a tumbler of the leftover brandy on the sofa. The girlfriend had relocated to the bedroom where I could hear her snoring gently. I took stock of my wounds: my chest hurt from being blasted into a snowdrift, my legs were sore and my arms were killing me from waving the sword around.

I wondered how I would explain what had happened to my girlfriend. As I thougt about it, I realised that I had no way of explaining it to myself. She'd only think I was crazy, or worse.

I looked at the sword, propped against the side of the sofa. It was wholly unremarkable, though I'd asked Charlie if I could keep it. After all, you never know when something nasty might try and eat you in your hallway.

**The End.**


	2. Part 2 Curmugeonry

Joshua Alexander Stories

**Part Two – Broad-shouldered Curmudgeonry.**

_(Author's Note: Set before the events of Grave Peril) _

**1**

It was a quiet night, quiet week even, until then.

I was relaxing in the comfy chair the evening shift had installed behind the counter. Some film in which some romantic tiff was being played out for an excruciatingly long time adorned the screen. A half-empty packet of cookies sat next to me within arms reach of the remote control.

The place was deserted: it was, after all, a Thursday night. A stack of DVDs that needed filing and which I was doing my best to ignore sat in a ragged pile. An empty cup of tea (my third) was propping a couple of DVDs that would otherwise have fallen down when I'd placed my feet on the counter.

I looked at my watch. Seven minutes to nine. Five minutes until I could reasonably sneak away early.

The bell tinkled and I literally leapt off my feet. The owner has rarely been known to set foot inside the shop outside of his working hours yet even so, I still didn't want him to think I was completely neglecting my job.

I looked over at the door, sighed and sat down again.

"Come in, Charlie"

Charlie McIntyre crossed the room in short, nervous paces and full of energy. I hadn't seen Charlie much lately. His dark hair was even longer than usual and hid most of his face. His mustard coloured baggy jumper just didn't go with his brown cords and his jackboots and his old fingerless gloves were even more worn and frayed than I remembered.

"Something up?" I asked, starting to put the DVDs back in their rightful places "The house hasn't been trashed by ogres again, has it?"

"Not yet" Charlie replied, without humour "But I still have no idea who is after me. It's only a matter of time before they strike again"

I took this comment with a shrug and continued to fill in the store accounts and put my foodstuffs away in the cupboard. Charlie settled down in the chair next to the counter, not saying a thing.

"So what brings you here now then?" I finally asked, turning off the film mid-kiss "It's obviously not to rent a movie for a gore-packed night of horror films"

"I was watching that" Charlie protested "Ah, yeah. It's something, well, you know..."

"...something magical?" I asked, rolling my eyes "There's no one else here, Charlie. You don't need to be skittish about it"

"Fine" he replied "I'm just not used to talking about it, is all"

"So what's bothering you?" I asked "More mysterious creatures need smiting?"

"Worse than that" Charlie replied "There's been a murder on the causeway"

"Aren't the police supposed to deal with it?" I asked

Charlie threw me a dark look.

"Let's just say that the police aren't equipped to deal with it"

"So it was a magical murder?" I guessed

"See for yourself" he responded grimly, passing me three photos taken on a Polaroid camera.

I was nearly sick where I stood. Dear God, it was horrific.

The first picture was of a man's face. Well, what was left of it anyway, after the killer had finished with him. Most of the skin had been peeled away somehow, leaving an unrecognisable mess of blood and sinew framing two dull, glassy blue eyes that stared with an unsettling intensity that only death can create.

The second photo was equally gruesome. It was a wider shot, this time taking in the man's body as well. His limbs looked to have been broken in many places and a series of bites or slashes seemed to have penetrated his torso in a rhythmic manner, leaving a crosshatched effect laced over his body. I gulped and turned to the last image.

This one had been taken later. A taped outline of the body lay on the ground, surrounded by a tri-layered summoning circle. I was a relative novice at this, but even I could tell that this man had been killed as part of an important and dark ritual.

My voice shook.

"Who was it?"

Charlie came over and studied the photos with me, expressionless. I noticed that his hands were balled into fists.

"That was John Dawson, practitioner of the Art. He was a friend of mine, owned the land where I have my cabin, in fact" Charlie swept the pictures up and tucked them away in his pocket, his voice wobbling a little "He had a minor talent, could do a couple of useful tricks at a euchre match and kept a couple of spell books handy. He was a widower, kept himself to himself, never went out much, apart from to go down to the Old Flag pub in Lelant a few nights a week"

"Did he have any enemies?" I asked, shuddering as I thought of the pictures and wondering what someone would have to do to deserve wrath in such epic proportions.

"None that I know of" Charlie was trembling with rage "I don't get it, Josh. How could someone do something like this?"

I considered the point.

"Do you think it was personal?" I asked, careful how I chose my words

"I think it must have been" Charlie responded "The occult circle around here is very small and close-knit. But I couldn't say for sure"

"So what does this kind of ritual achieve?" I asked. I'd been studying up on magic thanks to a couple of books Charlie had lent me, but my knowledge of the mystical was still only enough to half fill an egg cup "Would there be a benefit for someone to kill a practitioner in this way?"

Charlie's brow furrowed and he took out the third photo, studying it closely.

"I originally thought it could be some kind of satanist worship ritual" he bit his lip, uncertain "But to be honest, now I think about it, it looks more like an Adam's circle"

"An Adam's circle?" I asked "What are they?"

Charlie took a deep breath.

"A summoning circle. I think it's a way to gather a lot energy in one place..." he paused, reluctant to consider the possibility "...or it could be used to call up a spirit or demon"

"So which option do you think it is?" I asked "Surely if it's a demon we should act fast"

Charlie sighed heavily.

"I don't think so. It's more likely that even if a demon was called up, it would have remained trapped inside the circle" Charlie scrutinised the circle again "Though I can't imagine what that would achieve. Unless..." he tailed off, stuffed the photo in his pocket and ran to the door, almost knocking over a rack of DVDs in the process "Meet me at the Harbour Bar in half an hour. I need to look up a couple of things"

I watched him run out of the door.

"Fine" I mumbled at his retreating form, my lazy night ruined "It's not like I had anything else planned"

**2**

There was a large police presence under the viaduct, blocking off the road that led to the causeway. Two patrol cars blocked the way, preventing anyone from driving onto the causeway. Three police officers, two in uniform and one detective, stood by their cars, drinking coffee from a flask and talking amongst themselves.

Luckily for me, the Harbour Bar was right next to the viaduct, so I had the perfect excuse to be walking past them. I decided to use that to my advantage, putting on my least guilty face and walking over to the group. I smiled and addressed the older man, who had grey-streaked hair like a lion's mane.

"Excuse me, but could you tell me what's happened? Has there been another road accident on the causeway?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

The older policeman gave me a level gaze. He said nothing.  
"Not a traffic accident" the younger man, a sandy blond with an earnest look replied "Some guy was murdered out on the side of the road. We had to block the road off until the pathologist arrives, to make sure the body is dealt with correctly"

"A murder?" I asked, eyes narrowed "In Hayle?"

"Who'd have believed it?" the older man grumbled "Lived here all me life and never once had a murder like this one. Killed so badly we don't even know who he is"

"Why?" I asked, knowing I was pushing my luck "What happened?"

"I think we've told this gentleman quite enough, lads" the woman, who was evidently the senior officer, snapped. She looked at me with level eyes, her expression neutral. "I don't think you gave us your name"

"Josh" I replied, suddenly wary "Joshua Alexander"

She smiled, a tight-lipped, unfriendly affair.

"Detective Sergeant Amanda Miller. Did you have somewhere you were going, or are you here for a reason?"

"Yes, of course" I took the thinly veiled warning as I was meant to "I hope you find the killer"

"So do we" Detective Miller spoke softly "Have a good evening, Mr Alexander. Be careful on your way home" I thought I detected a twinkle in her eye, as if she was mocking me "There is, after all, a murderer afoot"

"I will. Good night, officers"

I had plenty to think about while waiting for Charlie. I nursed a pint of Doombar ale, gazed out of the window, where I could see the flashing lights, and pieced together what I knew so far.

John Dawson had been murdered, brutally and magically, which placed the suspect pool in the supernatural community, which by Charlie's own admission was very small. Furthermore, the person had either had a serious reason to dislike Dawson, or simply had no regard for the sanctity of life. Both possibilities scared me a little, but the first one would be easier for us to deal with. At least if he had an enemy then the suspect pool would shrink even further.

The police had no idea who the deceased was, but Charlie was certain that he knew. This posed some awkward questions that I didn't like to ask myself. How had Charlie come about this information? Did he have something to do with the murder, something that he was hiding from me? And how had Charlie managed to get close enough to take pictures on two separate occasions?

I had no idea how much power would be needed to power something like an Adam's circle, but I guessed that it wouldn't be easy. From what Charlie had told me before, he was widely considered the most talented of the practitioners in the region, and was the only one considered an actual magician. Therefore, if the killing had required the power of a magician, then it could only be Charlie or someone from out of town.

I frowned. I didn't like this situation.

I noticed a police car drive up to the others at the roadblock. A plainclothes policeman got out and went to talk to the woman, Detective Miller. She nodded and accompanied the man over towards the estuary.

"Hey, Josh. Wasn't sure that you'd be here"

I hadn't noticed Charlie's arrival. He looked stressed, and the bags under his eyes indicated that he was tired.

He had a large rucksack that he put on the sofa next to him and had already started on his cider.

"Hey, Charlie. Did you find what you needed?"

He nodded, opening the bag and pulling out a couple of volumes. The barman looked over with a small amount of interest. The bar was mostly empty, as was usual for a Thursday evening. Besides, the clientèle in the place rarely pulled out ornately decorated 18th Century manuscripts wrapped in darkened leather.

"I was right, it is an Adam's circle" Charlie explained, showing me a diagram he'd bookmarked "Useful things, actually. They can be used for lot's of incantations..."

"...And as a tool for murder" I added

"...Quite" Charlie muttered back, clearly glad for the loud music obscuring our conversation "It would have been an important part of the ritual that I believe the killer used"

"Go on" I replied, neutrally

"One of the principal uses of an Adam's circle is to gather energies together" Charlie explained "This can be used by any practitioner to gather a large bundle of power together. If manipulated correctly, they might be able to add this power to their own, for a time"

"So someone took John Dawson's life in exchange for magical power?" I asked "And anyone could just use one of these to draw up power?"

"It's not a simple procedure" Charlie replied "It takes a lot of preparation, and even then you would need to be mentally capable of creating anything like the carnage the murderer caused to John Dawson. Besides, the power is only temporary, like a one shot injection of magics. It gives an increase to a person's powers relative to the sacrifice made. Once this energy is used, though, it can't be replaced"

I nodded.

"How did you know to find him?" I asked, changing the subject "From the pictures it looked like you were on the scene before the police were"

"Dawson knew something was wrong. He left me a message, slipped it into my mailbox" Charlie took a gulp of cider and refilled the glass to the top with what was left in the bottle "I didn't check until today so I have no idea how long it was sitting there for"

"Why didn't he call you?" I asked

"I don't have a phone" Charlie replied dully "Electrical things don't work so well around us magical types"

"Is that why we get so many power outages at our place? Sorry, a little off-topic there"

Charlie waved a dismissive hand.

"The note said for me to meet him at the Old Flag, over in Lelant, yesterday evening. I was on my way to see him when I found his corpse on the side of the road"

I raised an eyebrow.

"The Old Flag?" I asked, sceptically "Hardly a quiet, out of the way meeting point"

"You get a lot of practitioners in there" Charlie pointed out "I reckon he would probably have felt safer there than somewhere secluded"

"Or there might have been some significance with the choice of location" I replied, using the deductive skills I'd honed from watching repeats of CSI and Life On Mars.

"It's a possibility" I could almost see the gears working in Charlie's head "It would certainly explain a few things – like why he was so far from home when he was killed" he drummed his fingers on the table and then slapped them down hard, the sound muffled by his glove.

"Right. This is what we need to do. Josh, I need you to go to my cabin. I'll write you a list of things I need: it's all labelled"

He scribbled down a few items on the back of a receipt and handed it to me. I tucked it into my pocket.

"Where will you be?"

He paused for a second as he tried to drink as much of his cider as possible. He choked but managed not to splutter it all over the table. There was still half of it left.

"Meet me out where the harbour meets the beach tomorrow morning at eight. I've got some preparation work to do"

**3**

Charlie's place looked even more militantly organised than the last time I'd been there. There wasn't a scrap of dust on the tattered floorboards and, true to his word, Charlie had labelled everything with white stickers and black marker pen and sorted all the items onto the steel shelves that hedged the room.

I checked the list and began to look around. The labelling system was easy to follow: he'd done it alphabetically (what kind of person does that? Charlie really must get out more often). Within ten minutes I had everything he had asked for: holy water, a green powder that was labelled 'Solidifying paste', an amulet with an amber stone inside, three steel hoops of differing sizes, two old coca cola bottles labelled '#92' and '#43' containing different coloured fluids, a packet of super noodles and the rusty sword that he had lent me a month previously, when I had helped him to track down and kill three Blackskin Ogres that had been contracted to kill him.

Satisfied that I had got everything he needed, I made my way out. As I went to leave, a bat that had taken refuge in the cabin scattered away into the dusk. I watched it go through the woods and wondered if I would later regret not being able to do the same.

As I turned back onto the main road, I noticed that the police had began a sweep of the area. Flashlights illuminated the night and police dogs tugged on leashes, sniffing at the area in search of any clue to the murderer.

I wasn't sure, but I was almost certain that as I drove past the roadblock Detective Sergeant Amanda Miller looked up at me and winked.

**4**

Charlie's hands were in his pockets and he was pacing backwards and forwards in a concerned manner, much like and expectant father, as I arrived. It wasn't snowing, thank goodness, but the sun had barely risen and the crisp February air was bitterly cold at the mouth of the exposed harbour. Spotting me, he picked his tree branch out of the ground and stomped over to me.

"Finally, Josh. What took you so long?"

I shoved the rucksack into his arms, making a non-committal grunt. I don't like mornings.

Charlie pulled the hoops, the amulet and the super noodles out from the bag, handed me the rest and moved back over to where he had been pacing before. He struggled to balance all of that and his tree branch.

"Keep hold of the sword" he warned me "If anything breaks loose, swipe at it"

More evil creatures. Fantastic. I groaned and rolled my eyes, gripping the sword tightly and setting the bag down between my legs.

I involuntarily took a step back as Charlie set the circles in differing sizes, similar to the ritual circle I had seen in the photo. He placed the super noodles in between the first and second inner circles and stepped back, whispering a litany of sounds, almost as if singing to himself. Hell, he even had quite a good voice. No Jason Mraz, but he'd be okay doing karaoke on a Friday night down at the pub.

A speck of red light appeared, and I waited for the tiny spark to explode into an evil beastie faerie, which would try and kill us both.

It didn't. If anything, it got smaller.

"McIntyre. It is thee" the faerie looked up at him. It was minuscule, barely bigger than a table spoon. It was tall and slender (for a pixie-sized thing, I guess) and looking very bored "What is it that thee wants this time?"

"Hi, Gregory. I brought you some super noodles" Charlie seemed nervous of the little being and he was pacing again "But I need some truthful answers before you can have them"

"Hmm" the faerie replied laconically "Ask away"

"Will you answer me truthfully?" he asked again

"I give my word"

"I ask you a third time" he was highly agitated "Can I trust your answers?"

"Ye gods, mortal" The faerie was getting angry now "How long hath thee sought answers from me? And hath I ever led thee astray?"

"There was that time in Gweek" Charlie answered sullenly "I was lost for hours"

The pixie laughed.

"That was amusing yet inconsequential. I answer thee yes thrice, now ask before my patience tires. We hath danced this dance enough previously, I scarcely know why thee bothers to bind me still..." the pixie glanced at me, it's tiny eyes narrowing. It bared it's miniature teeth "What is that? And why doth he flaunt the bane?"  
"Put it away, Josh" Charlie was sweating buckets. Hell, he was nervous. I'd seen him burn a full grown mother ogre who'd recently given birth to ashes and yet he was scared of this tiny pixie. I shook my head in disbelief and sheathed the blade.

The pixie seemed less disgruntled now.

"What did thee want, mortal?"

"There was a murder, magically driven"  
"The Fae doth not concern themselves with mortal slaying"

"So it was mortal?"

Gregory looked up at Charlie.

"You expect all of this for a packet of noodles?" He folded his arms and tapped his foot impatiently to illustrate his point "You'll get nothing more from me unless you offer me greater payment. A baby, perhaps"

"No babies" Charlie replied "Although I could offer you another of my Names..."

I'd been doing my homework in the last month and knew enough to draw a deep breath and begin to take out the sword. A Name is something exceptionally powerful when uttered by a magical being, but for that being to use it fully it must be spoken by the holder of the Name. This Gregory already knew Charlie's surname and for all I knew he knew his first name. It would be dangerous for Charlie to offer it more potential power over him.

Gregory knew this too and his ears pricked at the thought.

Charlie smiled for the first time in the conversation, letting the nervous charade drop.

"...or I could ask my good friend to take that sword to these circles and thrash you into pieces. I believe you heard he did a Blackskin in quite effectively in December"

"I remember" the pixie complained bitterly "The use of iron is sin unforgivable, mortal" I realised he was addressing me "Do not make a point to cross paths with us any time soon"

"So what's it to be?" Charlie asked "Information or will I set Josh here onto you?"

"Threats and lies shalt not be permitted" the faerie spat "Yet I answer thy questions for now. Consider thine payment sufficient"

"I always did" Charlie leaned on his stick "Who killed Jonathon Dawson?"

"I don't much keep with foolish names" the pixie replied "Though there is a new power hereabouts. And there hath been recently much power acquired around that area, wizard power. Thee would do well to stay from it"

"Where is there?" Charlie pressed

"The hillock, by some trees in a glade. There is a dwelling" Gregory tried to leave but found his way blocked by the circles "Release me, mortal one or thou shalt feel my peril!"

"As you wish" Charlie clicked his fingers and the magical tension dropped. The pixie stepped gracefully forward, picked up the packet and began to fly away, its fluttering wings somehow managing to support himself and the packet of noodles.

"What just happened there?" I asked, frowning

"We just got some important information" Charlie replied, gathering his hoops "Wish I knew what it meant"

"Where to next?"

Charlie shouldered the bag.

"It will have to wait until this evening. We have to go meet a dead guy"

**5**

I dropped Charlie back at the house, and while he checked his post I covered the magical items on the back seat with a large, unwieldy rug. I was just about to head in when a large, heavyset man in a grey cloak walked over to Charlie and grabbed him by the shoulder. Charlie spun round, and the man began to speak. I paused, crouching in the back of the VW not ten yards away, able to hear everything thanks to the open door.

"Apprentice" Grey Cloak was speaking "You are interfering with Council business"

Charlie looked at the man for a second.

"You-, what are you saying?" he shook his head in disbelief "Are you trying to tell me that the _White Council_ did this?"

Crushed behind the back seat, I tried not to breathe too loudly. The White Council were, as far as I could tell (for Charlie was reluctant to discuss it with anyone), the governing body of Magicians. They were supposed to uphold some kind of Laws of Magic, a list of rules restricting the use of magic to prevent black magic practices spreading. If the White Council was now going around sacrificing practitioners, then the last place I wanted to be was ten feet away from a Warden being accused by an arrogant Apprentice.

Warden Maher sighed, an expression that aged him considerably. His face was covered in liver spots and dark from years in the sun, full of wrinkles that seemed riven through toil and hard labour.

"The White Council did not kill John Dawson, Charles, and well you know that such a thing would never happen..."

"Yeah, because I've seen so much evidence to prove that" Charlie interrupted with insolence

"...You're letting previous happenings cloud your judgement, Apprentice" Maher reprimanded "And your hazardous approach to finding the killer has raised the awareness of the local police constabulary"

"Whereas you've been doing, well, sweet F.A, haven't you?" Charlie replied. He sometimes lacks manners.

"The Wardens are looking into it" Maher told him "We will find the killer in due course" He turned to leave, his heels slamming onto the concrete as he walked off "Stay out of our investigations, McIntyre. The consequences could be severe if you don't" he smiled grimly "And if we find out that you have a hand in this..."

I watched the man stalk off, his cloak flapping in the breeze and revealing a staunch physique. The Warden wouldn't be winning any beauty contests, but I had a feeling he'd prove a deadly adversary in a fight. I clambered out of the Camper and walked over to Charlie.

"What was all that about?" I asked. I noticed Charlie's gloved hands were shaking, his fists clenched in fury. His face, however, was a mask of calm.

"Bloody Nigel Maher thinks he can warn me off with a couple of cheap threats. 'Hazardous approach'? At least I'm doing something about it"

"Who is Nigel Maher?" I asked, wanting to stop Charlie's muttering before he took out a dustbin or something.

Charlie took a deep breath.

"He's the Warden assigned to keep an eye on me until my powers develop into that of a full magician" he replied, venom wrapping his words "Not that he does much of that, the prick"

"So what do the Wardens have that we don't?" I asked

"More people to chase false leads all over the place" Charlie answered scathingly "None of the wardens for the south-west are local. They couldn't find their arse from their elbow in this area; the police have more chance of finding the killer than they do"

I considered this.

"So what do we do now?"

"Now?" Charlie took his key out of his pocket and unlocked the door "Now we step things up a notch"

**6**

The Old Flag pub was rarely crowded, not even at 7pm on a Friday evening. The pub drew a strange crowd, a few members of the supernatural community, a couple of practitioners with a little skill, a Wiccan group that met regularly on a Saturday, and a few normal folk who had no idea that there was even a supernatural community. Humans. They walk around with their eyes closed to miss all that goes on around them.

Tonight was particularly quiet; possibly people were avoiding it thanks to its proximity of Dawson's death to the place.

We went to the bar. I order an ale; Charlie ordered a sprite and orange juice, earning a weird look from the barman. We settled into the corner and watched as the regulars shuffled in slowly.

We were on our third drink (I was starting to worry that Charlie might have to drive us home) when an elderly man shuffled into the bar. He wore a long woolly jumper which he'd rolled up to the elbows and baggy trousers stained by oil and grass. He grunted at the appropriate people and ordered a lager. He took it, paid with coins and walked over to where we were sat.

"This here were John's table" he groaned as he sat down at our table. His expression was impenetrable. I stared at his hands, which were thick and scarred, marred by years of heavy labour. He looked at both of us, a hard, penetrating stare, breaking off eye contact quickly each time "Who are you?"

"Friends of John's" Charlie replied, failing to add that I'd never met the man "We're trying to find out how he died"

I shivered. The room seemed colder than when we'd entered. I looked around, trying to see if the windows had been left open.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" the old man took a sip "A good man killed or no good reason. Probably kids got carried away with some Satanist nonsense"

I looked at Charlie. This man either knew more than we thought, or was completely ignorant of the situation.

"He wanted to talk to me before he was killed" Charlie blurted to the stranger. I looked at him in despair. Sometimes Charlie just shouldn't speak.

There was an uncomfortable pause.

"Ain't that queer" The old man raised a bushy eyebrow "So what did he want to talk to you about?"

"I think he was in danger. He thought I could help"

"Well course he was in danger..." the stranger's eyes opened wide in realisation "You're McIntyre's boy, ain't you?"

"Charlie McIntyre"

Again the pause.

"Knew your Dad. Shame what happened to him"

"I get by" Charlie's expression was terse; he didn't like to talk about it "It was a few years ago now"

"Might know a guy who could know why John Dawson was so riled" he put a note on the table "Could be he can help, could be he can't"

I glanced at the note. It had an address but no name. Charlie palmed it before I could study it further. The old man frowned at us.

"It's good to meet you, son. You need any more help, I ain't got none to offer" he stood with a little difficulty and walked over to the bar, where he ordered another pint to go with the one he had somehow managed to drain while talking to us.

"Spectacularly useless" I commented

"I don't know" Charlie patted his pocket "We know two things now: some new player is living on a hill nearby and John Dawson had something important to tell me before he died" he looked over at that man "Besides, that guy is hiding something"

I looked over at the bar and a shiver ran through me again. I figured I must be catching a cold.

"We still have no idea what we're up against" I

"Ah, that's not a problem" Charlie's face had lit up "We're getting somewhere, at least"

**6**

Charlie took a bunch of things out of the VW Camper and arranged them about his person. He carried the two drinks bottles in his bag, had the holy water in one pocket and the powder in another. Finally, he wrapped the amulet around his left hand and took the stick in another.

"You got your sword?"

I took it from the back if the van.

"We're not going to do anything illegal, are we?"

"Would it stop you if we were?"

I thought about it for a second.

"I don't know"

Before long we found ourselves traipsing along the old back roads that led through to a various clump of hamlets and nowhere villages. Charlie seemed to know where he was going, though buggered if I knew where. He held up his stick, which had a tiny flame flickering an inch or so above it, partially illuminating the way.

"How do you make your stick do that?" I asked "Can you do that with any old branch?"

"It's called a staff" Charlie snapped back "It's to focus my magics and make sure I don't disintegrate things accidentally"

"Just purposefully then"

"Not very often" Charlie shrugged "Sometimes it's necessary"

"So what are we going to do when we get to wherever we are going? It looks like you're all ready for a battle"

"Well, best to be over-prepared and appear menacing when we arrive. First impressions are important" he informed me.

I looked at him, in his over sized fisherman's jumper and faded brown trousers going into his jackboots. Charlie McIntyre looked a lot of things and menacing was not a phrase that came easily to mind.

A small cottage came into view surrounded by a small copse of trees. Behind it Trencrom hill rose up from the earth.

"On the hill, by the trees, in a glade" Charlie murmured softly "Think this might be the place?"

**7**

Charlie knocked for the third time.

"So what are we expecting?"

"Not rightly sure" Charlie knocked a fourth time "Possibly a dark mage, maybe some kind of nasty creature, a werewolf or vampire, perhaps, with a bit of magics about them. There are a lot of possibilities" he knocked again "Ah, this is useless. Stand back" He raised his staff two-handed and pointed it at the lock "This might be dangerous – I'm no expert at this type of magic"

He readied his will and I felt a slight hum in the air, a tightening of power. I could feel the energy being drawn as if from the earth itself.

"Desabolger..." he tailed off as the door opened.

A man, or what resembled a man in his sixties peered out of the door. He had a neat beard and cropped salt and pepper hair. His eyes shone like turquoise pools, giving him a distinctly inhuman appearance.

"You must be Wizard McIntyre. I was expecting a visit. Please, come in"

Charlie was still gaping. I gave him a slight shove and we followed the, well – whatever it was, into its house.

"I must admit-" the inhuman man said "I was expecting a Warden or two at least. Do you take tea with sugar, lemon or honey?" he asked

"Just milk" I replied

"Honey and milk" Charlie still seemed slightly dazed

"Thanks" I added, when it was clear Charlie wasn't able to offer gratitude himself.

"I'll only be a minute" the non-person left the room without a sound.

As soon as he had left I turned to Charlie.

"What is _that_?"

"Azure Court Vampire" Charlie replied, slightly detached "I thought they were all extinct"

"Then what it one doing living on Trencrom Hill?" I asked "And what is this about an Azure Court?"

"Different vampires have different,_ talents_, that they use, which affects their personalities" Charlie explained in a low whisper "The Red Court is the largest; they drink blood and can turn into, well, bat-like monsters. They are mostly in the Americas and Africa though. In Europe our problem has mostly been with the Black Court, the ones in Dracula"

"Dracula, as in the book by Bram Stoker?" I asked

"Exactly" Charlie replied. He looked awfully pale "Though Drakul is still reckoned to be alive somewhere in Bulgaria these days and most of them have gone into hiding. Stoker was pretty accurate in detailing how best to kill them"

"So there are Red, Black and Azure Court vampires?"

"Plus White and Jade Court" Charlie added with a grimace "We don't see those much"

"You still haven't answered my question about the Azure Court"

"I don't know that much about them" Charlie admitted "I know one hasn't been seen for years; a lot of people think that they are extinct. They are very solitary beings who dislike company of all types. They supposedly feed on bodily fluids, saliva, sweat and the like"

I pulled a face.

"That's disgusting"  
"Tell me about it" Charlie raised an eyebrow "Apparently they can suck all of the water from your body in seconds if you let them get close enough"

"But surely we would hear if bodies were being dried out after death" I reasoned "I think we'd have noticed if John Dawson had died of lack of bodily fluids"

"I'm not sure" Charlie replied "I'd need to check my reference books"

Just then the vampire returned, bearing three cups of tea. I raised an eyebrow.

"Any type of liquid will keep us alive, as long as the water content is high" he passed us our respective cups and kept one for himself "Of course, one can never quite match the taste of a human" he paused, almost relishing the thought "Not that I've fed like that for a long time. Our race leaves behind quite obvious traces when we kill. Besides, your White Council is quite determined to stamp our race out at present"

"It is the Red Court that is provoking us" Charlie replied curtly "And I do not come here as a representative of the Council"

"Indeed?" the vampire raised a ghost of a smile upon his face "Then what is it that you seek?"

"Firstly, I'd like to know what you are doing in this part of the world. I thought you all liked a bit more space between yourself and other folk"

"I've been around since Queen Victoria was mewling and crying for her mother" the vampire replied suavely "Let's just say that every now and again I need a change" he stood and looked over at the window "Besides, it's not as if I have been causing, ahem, havoc and mayhem, have I?"

"That remains to be seen" Charlie had barely touched his tea "What do you know of the murder of John Dawson?"

the Vampire returned to his seat and elegantly perched upon it "I do not know of this man. What happened?"

"I'd rather not share that with you" Charlie retorted petulantly  
"As you wish" the Vampire's eyes became unfocused for a second, then slipped back into their bottomless blue perfection "Ah, a basic power draining murder. Most likely with the help of a lesser demon"

"You can read minds?" I asked, impressed and intimidated at the same time.

"I can feel the vibrations in the brain fluid" the vampire replied "Difficult, but useful"

"Did you murder John Dawson?" Charlie had stood now and had the holy water opened in his gloved hand "I've no more time for games!"  
The Vampire's eyes turned scarlet for a second and the room seemed to heat up considerably. It went from sitting to standing in less than a blink of the eye.  
"I will not tolerate such insolence in my home" he moved again at lightning speed, so that he was less than half a metre from Charlie's face "Get out, now"

"If I find out that you are behind this" Charlie had somehow remained calm – which was incredible in the circumstances "I will hunt you down and destroy you even if it kills me"

The Vampire gave a low, mirthless laugh.

"It would. Be gone now, young Wizard. I have no reason to kill you yet. Do not give me one"

**8**

"William Holness" Charlie frowned at the letterbox by the wall "Interesting. Shame I couldn't have got him to say his name aloud"

"You could have taken him back there" I assured him "Right?"

"Not a chance in all the dimensions of Douglas Adams" Charlie replied "I was bluffing so hard I thought he would obliterate me there and then"

"But he can be killed, right?"

"I could dip him in a tub of holy water" Charlie mused "That'd do for him. But I don't think any other weapons work particularly well on the Azure Court"

"So if it does turn out to be him, we're stuffed"

Charlie shrugged.

"I'd certainly give it a go"

I looked him, half-bemused and half-respectful.

"You really don't know when to give up, do you?" I ventured

Charlie illuminated his stick.

"Never"

**9**

"So this is what we have" Charlie began to jot notes onto a notepad. It was Saturday morning and I had six hours before I was due into work "The Vampire seems unlikely. If it was him, he'd have made it obvious and killed us before we got away. Besides," he added, scribbling furiously "he doesn't need any more power than he already has"

"So William Holness is off the list. Which means Gregory was wrong" I inserted

"Wouldn't be the first time" Charlie replied "Faeries are utterly unreliable. Plus sneaky as anything"

"So where does that leave us?"

"We have that address in St Ives we could look into" Charlie mused "Or we could go back and speak to the old man. There was something about him..."

"St. Ives" I suggested "No point going back to talk to that man until we know if his tip was any good"

Charlie nodded.

"What are the White Council up to?" I asked. Charlie frowned. I wasn't supposed to know about the Council.

"Wish I knew" he finally relented "I can hardly go up and ask them myself"

"Fair enough" I looked at my watch, then checked my pockets. Just about enough money for a weekly shop "Right, I need to head to the shops. When are you going over to St. Ives?"

"Can you drive me over when you get back from the shops?" Charlie asked

"Do I have a choice?" I shot back "I'm in this too deeply now to do anything about it"

**10**

The address was above one of the numerous galleries that adorned the seafront. The front door leading up to the apartment was unlocked, and Charlie gingerly prodded it open with his stick. I had mentioned that it was a bad idea to tote that around town but he had simply shot me a withering glance and taken it anyway.

There was a disturbing smell as we climbed the stairwell up towards the flat. As we drew nearer I realised that I knew that smell from our fight against the Blackskin ogre a couple of months before. Something was bleeding upstairs.

Our footsteps quickened and we didn't even pause to knock as we entered through a slightly ajar front door. I wrapped my sleeves around my hands, careful not to touch anything. We followed the hall down to a small kitchen, where we stopped dead in out tracks.

The dead body of whoever lived here was lying inside three circles. An Adam's Circle. A shadow the size of a human seemed to be feeding on it, devouring the lifeless flesh of the torso.

"The demon" Charlie spat, chucking me the bag. I fumbled inside it and drew out my sword, the only weapon that I knew how to use. I put the bag behind me as Charlie drew the powder out of his pocket and smudged the black lines with his foot.

The power sunk around the circles and the shadowed-demon turned from the dead man. His body may have looked non-corporeal but his teeth certainly didn't.

"Oh, Demon, what big teeth you have" Charlie quipped. He was loving this, the maniac. He readied his staff and let the demon take a step towards him. Carefully judging his throw whilst retreating, he threw the bag of paste in a gentle arc over the demon's head.

As it spun above the demon he shot what looked to be a powerful jet of green light from his stick, piercing the bag and sending the powder over the demon in an aqueous paste. The demon began to writhe and wriggle, it's movements slowed as the paste began to clutch to it's skin.

"Now Josh!" Charlie commanded. I went forward with the sword held high and swept it straight through the demon. It howled and lashed out at me, ripping my t-shirt and sending me into the sideboard.

Charlie clenched his amulet and drove his hand forward "Forza" he boomed.

A hole blew straight through the demon's head, dropping it to the floor. As we watched it seemed to ooze into the ground before us, leaving a collection of soggy green paste behind.

"Well, that made it scamper away sharpish" Charlie laughed and came over to me "How is your arm?"

"Hurts like hell" I tried to move it and wanted to scream "Plus I'm bleeding"  
Charlie inspected it.

"It's only a surface graze" he took a first aid kit out of his bag. He dampened a towel, cleaned the wound and wrapped a bandage around it, securing it with a safety pin "You'll need to replace that later"

"Later" I paused and looked at my watch "Shit"

"What?"

"I'm going to be late for work"

**11**

Charlie was waiting for me outside when I finished work.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" I asked

"Not really. Why, do you?"

"I guess not. My girlfriend is off visiting her parents this weekend"

"I need some back-up"

"What for now?"

"I'm going for a drink at the Old Flag" Charlie was playing with his fingerless glove "Plus you have a valid driving license"

"That Detective you told me about called by this morning" Charlie told me as we clambered into my VW Camper "Seems that she felt you might be able to aid her investigations"

"And you let her in to your flat?" I asked "Surely all of the magical equipment would have aroused her suspicions?"

Charlie snorted.

"Josh, I'm not a complete idiot. I don't keep anything magical in my flat, apart from keeping my staff in the cupboard. And it's not as if she'd look there"

"So what did she say?" I asked  
"Well, you're definitely not a suspect" Charlie frowned "So I'm not sure exactly what she thinks you can help her with"

"There's something strange about her" I muttered "But I can't place it exactly"

"She's hot though" Charlie observed

"Charlie!" I reprimanded "I have a girlfriend"

"Yeah..." Charlie accepted the fact "But she is quite hot, isn't she?"

The Old Flag was marginally less busy than before. In the corner sat the old man, alone. He was staring over at the wall, seemingly in a world of his own.

"What are you going to do?" I asked in a hushed voice

"I want to be all dramatic and cause a scene" Charlie replied "But this isn't a pub where they tolerate that kind of thing"

"So don't"

"Fine" Charlie stalked over to the old man's table and I followed a few steps behind.

"Tom Farthbrough"

"That's me" he replied, calmly "Oh, McIntyre. How did it go with my contact?"

"You're contact is dead" Charlie replied "And you sent that demon after him"

The man's eyes narrowed and he stood up to face Charlie.

"What did you say?" he challenged, glaring at Charlie. He was quite a bit taller than Charlie and towered over my friend.

"You heard exactly what I said, murderer" Charlie accused in a low voice.

I moved between them and half-pushed them both into their seats. As I did so I felt a glimpse of each practitioner's power.

Charlie's power was pure, righteous energy. I could tell that he didn't possess a huge amount of raw power, but it was backed by a razor sharp intellect, and a faith in his power as a force of good. I felt a rush of peace overcome me; Charlie was definitely one of the good guys.

Tom Farthbrough was a completely different matter and I shuddered as my hand made contact with his chest and pushed him back. His power was a mixture of fear, furious anger bottled up inside of him. It was wrapped in a greasy, nauseating layer of black magic, which sent rivulets of icy energy down my fingers.

I stepped back, breathing heavily. This man had killed those men as surely as if he had put a knife through their hearts. I shivered as the feeling of black magic coursed through me again.

The old man looked at me with heavy lidded eyes. He knew what I had just seen in him. Charlie looked shocked; he had felt the same as I had.

"I challenge you to a duel under the rules of the Accords" Charlie spoke quietly across the table, recovering quickly from the shock. Around us the chatter of the locals continued unabated. No one had noticed a thing "If you refuse I will request assistance from the White Council in the matter"

The old man sighed. He knew he had been caught.

"Very well, I accept. No need to involve those old fools. But I warn you, McIntyre. You play with fire, trying this"

"You are familiar with the rules?" Charlie asked

"Remind me" Farthbrough inclined his head "I was a second for your father once, but I do not remember the details"

Charlie's eyes darkened at the mention of his father.

"I challenge you so I choose the location and the time. You choose how we will fight from a list of choices given by a neutral emissary who will referee the duel"

"Do you have any suggestions?"

"I do" Charlie passed over a slip of paper "I figured Trencrom Hill at 11pm would be quiet enough for us. I recommend the Azure Court as the emissary, as there is a vampire living locally"

Farthbrough's eyes opened in surprise. He had evidently thought them extinct, too.

"Very well. Contact him. You have a second?"  
"Joshua Alexander" Charlie indicated me. Tom Farthbrough grunted.

"Very well. I will meet you here tomorrow at the same time. I expect to see the emissary then and will notify you of my second"

"Good" Charlie rose from his seat and walked towards the bar. I followed.

"Dear God" Charlie muttered as we ordered our drinks, putting his head in his hands "I can't believe I just did that"

**12**

William Holness fitted in with the rest of the crowd at the bar surprisingly well. He had managed to shrink his pupils back to normal size, so that they didn't tip off the unsuspecting public. He was dressed in a polo shirt and trousers with smart shoes, looking all the world like he had just come in from a round of golf.

"What will you have?" asked the barman as Charlie and I joined Holness, who was sipping a pint of water.

"Coke"

"Pint of Doombar Ale" I ordered

"Aren't you driving?" Holness asked suspiciously of me

"One won't hurt"

"With your reactions? I wouldn't risk it" he turned and stalked over to one of the tables. Charlie and I followed.

"Tom Farthbrough will be here any minute" Holness consulted his watch "His second cannot, unfortunately, make it, so we will proceed without him. The time and location has been fixed and, given consent from both parties, will take place tomorrow evening"

Charlie nodded and looked white. I murmured some form of barely-verbal consent.

"Here he is" William Holness didn't look around as Farthbrough entered the pub and neared us. He took a seat as far from Charlie as he could.

"We were just discussing dates. Does tomorrow evening suit you?" Holness asked, not wasting any time.

"Fine. I will need some time to prepare, but I can be ready for tomorrow" Tom Farthbrough acknowledged.

"Very well. You have chosen the discipline?"

Farthbrough nodded. He looked nervous, almost as nervous as Charlie, who was shaking slightly. I kicked him under the table and he stopped.

"Will. Magics"

"That is fine by me" Charlie replied neutrally, with only a quaver of fear in his voice

"Very well" Holness nodded assent "We will meet tomorrow at 11pm on the hill. Any problems, you both know the channels through which to contact me. We are finished for tonight" he rose, then paused as he turned to go "Remember. If you do not turn up to the duel, or you fail to follow the rules of the duel, your life becomes forfeit to me. Good night, gentlemen"

Farthbrough rose and left the pub seconds after Holness. Charlie looked over at me.  
"Do you think I should tell the Council?"

"Why haven't you done so already?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"It's a long story" Charlie replied "Let's just say I don't trust them to do their job properly"

As we spoke, two figures entered the bar. One of them was Warden Maher, who had forsaken his grey cloak for the sake of appearing normal. Charlie rolled his eyes and downed his coke.  
"Let's go" he muttered slamming his glass on the table and stalking out. I followed, trying to finish off my beer before we got to the car park.

**13**

"Holness has been around a little too long for my liking" Charlie threw a rock up in the air and caught it "Truth be told, I'm more nervous of him than of Farthbrough"

"Then why did you suggest him to arbitrate?" I was trying to fix a glitch in the shop's computer system. Charlie was also behind the counter, reclining one of the chairs while resting his legs on another. He'd placed his stick out of sight, so as not to scare the customers away "Surely there were other referees you could have used?"

"None as strong as Holness. That vampire has an insane amount of raw strength" Charlie threw the rock up and caught it again "I wouldn't have a chance against him"

"Don't hit anything with that stone" I warned "Surely Holness will remain neutral throughout. He seems to respect traditions"

"I just hope he doesn't turn a blind eye to any cheating" Charlie had given up on the rock and was biting a nail "I seriously doubt that Tom Farthbrough will play fair"

"What is he, exactly?"

"A warlock, I guess" Charlie hazarded "He's certainly not on the White Council and he's been toting more than minor-league power recently. Besides, that power he has is just evil"

"Tell me about it. I thought I was going to collapse when I felt it"

"You felt his powers too?" Charlie looked at me quizzically "That's not possible"

"Why not? You certainly can, so why should I not be able to?" I replied shortly. I had abandoned my computer glitch-fixing and turned to glare at Charlie "You magicians can't have a monopoly on everything, can you?"

"I mean it's impossible" Charlie amended "As you have no magic about you. Trust me, I would be able to tell"

I thought about that for a moment.

"What does that mean?"

"Hell if I know" Charlie bit at another nail, and then threw the rock up in the air again "I'm starting to think this wasn't one of my greatest ideas"

**14**

Trencrom Hill was illuminated by a half moon. Two shadows crossed the hill across to us.

"Good evening, gentlemen" Holness, looking a hell of a lot creepier in a black coat and with those huge dilated pupils looking straight through us, greeted "I was worried you were going to be late"

"Holness, Farthbrough" I greeted in monosyllables. Charlie uttered grunts as we all shook hands.

"Where is Farthbrough's second?" Charlie asked roughly

Farthbrough gave a smile. He looked like someone's kindly uncle.

"Let me just get him"

He walked over to where a set of concentric circles stood. Inside was a rabbit, trapped inside. Farthbrough uttered a string of syllables, presumably the demon's Name, and the circle began to bulge and wrench. The shadow-demon that Farthbrough had been using to gain power emerged and descended upon the rabbit, devouring it in seconds, during which Charlie and I mostly exchanged disgusted glances.

"Wrothrazagal" Holness commanded. The demon fell silent and seemed to look towards the Azure Vampire. I noticed it still looked injured, as if it had not recovered from the blows Charlie and I had dealt it. I checked for the iron sword in my scabbard and was glad for its presence "Do you support Tom Farthbrough as his second?"

The demon rasped something in a snarl incomprehensible to me. Holness listened, nodded, then replied in a similar snarl. Seemingly pacified, the demon stood in the circle, motionless.

"We may begin. Would the seconds stand opposite each other and allow the combatants to take to the field?"

I positioned myself opposite the demon, figuring it wasn't about to move much from where it was enclosed. Charlie, Holness and Farthbrough stepped inside an unseen circle, which illuminated into a reddish, half-transparent wall about a foot high.

"You may use any types of magics to defeat your enemy. The fight will end when one of the combatants perishes or gives in, unless the arbitrator is forced to step in" Holness coughed "I have been clear in my instructions. You will begin on my count"

I looked to each combatant. Charlie, with his gloves, amulet and stick, looked anything but menacing. I noticed that Farthbrough had a short blade in one hand and a cluster of dark feathers in the other. He looked a lot more agile than the first time I had seen him. I guessed he put the show of being fragile on to hide suspicion.

"Three, two, one. Begin"

Farthbrough was quickest off the mark. He yelled, incomprehensibly, flinging the feathers at Charlie. A wave of tiny, obsidian, bird-like creatures flew towards Charlie, who calmly drew a line in front of him with his stick and murmured "Blocco"

An orange glow halted the oncoming missiles as if they were candy, sending them flying off into the sides of the walls. They disintegrated the moment they left the circle.

"Forza!" Charlie pointed the stick at Farthbrough and a gunshot-like beam of energy shot towards Farthbrough, who used sword to deflect the magic. Charlie tried again, keeping his distance, and Farthbrough again countered, this time slower than before.

Farthbrough drew dark swirls of energy about himself, summoning his reserves of power. He edged towards Charlie, who realised that he couldn't keep flinging raw power about and stepped forward to meet him, swing his stick in a well-judged towards Farthbrough's knee.

The older man used one of the dark whirlpools to knock Charlie's staff away and lunged forwards with the knife. It caught Charlie on the thigh. Charlie gritted his teeth, reversing the staff and catching Farthbrough on the back of his head, stepping aside as the older man fell.

Farthbrough picked himself up, sending a wave of energy cascading against Charlie's redrawn shield. The shield held for a second, but the power overwhelmed it and crashed into Charlie, knocking him back a few yards towards the edge of the circle.

Farthbrough again drew in his energy, but I noticed that this time the black cloud of protection around him was weaker, less opaque than before.  
"He's fading!" I shouted to Charlie "Keep hammering him"

It was Charlie's duel to lose from here on in. Farthbrough was strong, but it was all borrowed power, stolen from other practitioners. If Charlie could keep him using his magic to defend himself, then he would wear him down to nothing. When it came to reserves, Charlie had much more left than Farthbrough already.

Farthbrough realised this too. In a moment of panic, he rolled aside, avoiding another blast of energy. He brought his sword down upon the circle, breaking it open with a slice. He then held his hand towards where the demon was trapped and yelled something in what was possibly Russian.

The circle opened and the demon emerged. Farthbrough turned, triumphant, with his arm stretching to cast a spell on Charlie.

Holness drained him before he had the chance to throw it.

It was a sudden action. One minute Farthbrough was laughing, the next he seemed to implode, like a balloon suddenly being popped. Fluids poured from his orifices, congealing as they went and cascading in a stream literally _into_ Holness. What was essentially a bunch of dried flesh and bones collapsed into a heap on the ground where Farthbrough had stood just moments before.

The demon, meanwhile, had escaped from the Adam's circle and was heading straight towards me, teeth bared and snarling in its bizarre demonic tongue.

I screamed (I'm not proud to admit it) and drew my sword up in a desperate parry, hoping to get lucky somehow.

Holness had the demon covered too. He moved faster than I thought possible and literally picked him up, then slammed him to the ground. The demon, which seemed to become part-liquid as soon as Holness touched him, disappeared into a puddle of goo and water on the floor, splashing all of us in the process.

Trencrom Hill fell silent. All I could hear was Charlie's breath rasping from the exertion of the fight. Before me, I watched as Holness picked up his coat and buttoned it slowly. He picked up his briefcase and nodded curtly to us both.

"Our business here is concluded. Good night, gentlemen"

He walked off silently into the night.

**The End.**


End file.
